


Why?

by Aingealis



Category: Marvel, Spectacular Spider-Man, Spider-Man - Fandom, TSSM, the spectacular spider-man
Genre: Angst, Deconstruction, Feels, Gen, Hope, hero speech, reason for fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22161079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aingealis/pseuds/Aingealis
Summary: A deconstruction of one of my character’s backstories, and how even more “normal” lives or backgrounds can affect people
Kudos: 2





	Why?

“Why are you a superhero?”

The question caught her off guard, and it took her a few seconds to actually process it. 

Why  _ was _ she a superhero?

If it wasn’t for her powers, she would just be a normal, average, everyday lady. She wasn’t extraordinarily smart, or strong, or witty, or rich, she was just..Herself.

She enjoyed reading, and had been a competitive skater, but other than that? There was nothing really rare about her.

Her life hadn’t been particularly noteworthy either, good or bad. Her parents were alive and well, had done their best to raise her, and her younger siblings (while a pain in the neck at times), she adored. She was grateful for the fact that none of her loved ones were dead or abusive, but what if that meant she wasn’t a true hero? She hadn’t gone through some life threatening or scarring incident (other than getting her powers, of course), so what if that meant that she didn’t have enough character? Heart? Perseverance?

She had stayed quiet, made friends when she could, tried to help and listen, or be boisterous and happy when it was called for, and had gotten through life quite well before the accident.

Yes, she remembered the infectious joy when she had first discovered her powers, and the memory brought a soft smile to her face.

However, the smile morphed into a frown when she also remembered the accompanying fear.

The nights she had stayed awake, lying in bed, reminding herself that she could not, under any circumstances, tell her family about her secret identity.

The nightmares that had woken her up at midnight, so bad that she had had to resort to screaming into a pillow, because she hadn’t been strong enough, or fast enough, or smart enough to save them.

The long patrols spent out in the city, used to distract her from the homework and inevitable questions of what she had been doing while gone.

The growing fear and anxiety that her parents thought she was up to no good, such as hanging with the wrong crowd, trying to skip school, or just getting into trouble; when in reality she was stopping crime.

The days she had trudged through, sleep-deprived and nervous, barely making it through ice skating practice, wondering when the next villain attack or bank robbery would be. 

The sleepless nights spent patrolling or frantically finishing homework. Worried friends and family asking what was wrong, and having to brush it off, reassuring them that everything was okay.

Overtime, it had gotten easier. Willow had supported her (in her own way), family and friends had encouraged her (even though they didn’t know the truth), and she had gotten stronger. 

When she got to college, it eased the burden of keeping her identity a secret from her parents off of her shoulders, and she had been able to enjoy things more. 

However, she still regretted the ‘what ifs’.

“What if I hadn’t been there?”

“What if I hadn’t been strong enough?”

“What if I didn’t get there on time?”

“What if it’s too much?”

_ Why am I a superhero _ ?

She thought to herself.

What with such an ambiguous background to how she got her powers, by all rights, she could have turned into a villain if she had wanted to be, or if things had gone a little differently, and she couldn’t help but wince at this.

With a growing despondency, she began to think that she wasn’t a hero at all. Just an unlucky girl who had fallen (literally and metaphorically) into all of this mess.

However, something gave her pause.

Memories came unbidden, flashing through her mind. The time she had saved a man from a speeding car. The time she had stopped a bank heist, saving all of the lives who had been held hostage. The time she had helped an old lady across the street.

With a grin, she also remembered the time she had managed to make a crook surrender to the cops just by repeatedly using ice puns, eventually frustrating him.

All of the smiles, the Thank yous, the awe-filled looks. She had  _ saved _ some people, and it had been the most amazing experience in the world.

With sudden clarity, she realized that being a hero was something she never wanted to give up.

And as for why? 

“My parents....They raised me to always try to do the right thing, even when it hurts. To take care of those who couldn’t take care of themselves. To help the weak, the needy, the lonely, neglected, no matter who they might be. They...Taught me that nobody is too far gone.”

She paused, eyes closing as she searched for the right words.

“I know...It seems childish to cling to ideals such as that, and that there will be circumstances where they are tested, or things won’t be as clear ...But at least I have some truth to cling to.”

Straightening, she opened her eyes, and continued,

“There are others that have had it way worse, or way better than me, and that’s okay. There are others who have had more interesting lives than me, and that’s okay as well. It doesn’t matter what happened in the past, or the present, or what might happen in the future, it depends on what you do with it, and how you let it shape you.”

She couldn’t stop the small smile that began warming her features.

“And yeah, I’ll probably go up against things I won’t be able to handle, or won’t be prepared for, but...It’ll grow me in the end. And in the end, regardless, I want to be able to be the one that comforts those who need it, save those who need help, protect those who cannot protect themselves. Because, not only is it right, and feels right; but because I used to be just a normal person, trying to get through, and now that I have these powers, I can help other people, normal or not, who’re maybe like me, just looking for some help, or someone to understand, or just listen to them.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, she paused, before finishing in a slightly softer voice,

“The reason I’m a hero? It’s because most of my life, I was just your average plain-Jane, but now, I have the means and capacity to really, truly help people, in a way and form that I know and love.”

She nodded with finality, then asked with a grin,

“Does that answer your question?”


End file.
